


Memories of a Tranquil

by ForeverFighting



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Circle of Magi, Memories, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Repressed Memories, Short One Shot, Tranquil Mages, Trauma, alternate theories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverFighting/pseuds/ForeverFighting
Summary: An exploration of tranquility from the perspective of a mage who has been made tranquil. Alternate theories on what the tranquil experience is like. Short fic.





	Memories of a Tranquil

My mind is like a calm ocean, and I float face down on the surface. Don't worry, I haven't died! I look down into the lilting depths, the objects of my life. They drift back and forth, sometimes rising up into clearer view, or sinking from my recollection.

The objects mean nothing to me. My mother's gloves, she always wore them even when it was warm out. She was wearing them the last time I saw her, and they appeared before me in the same state as they were then, speckled with her blood. I considered this as they sunk away from me, how had the blood not washed away in the waves? Sunken back into the dark, they were gone and I forgot again that they had ever played a part in my life.

"Her life is over" I heard uttered by a matter-of-fact voice. I opened my eyes and looked in the direction of the voice. A grey-bearded mage spoke to a kindly faced Chantry sister.

"Don't be so catastrophic Gerard, she can still find a purpose."  
The sister was looking at me as she said this, but she wasn't talking to me. The mage's eyes scowled in my direction. "But who would take her, after that?"

At his words, my vision split as I felt my eyes rolling back into my skull. The room fragmented, shards of sound pierced me painfully and resolved into a ragged scream. The voice was familiar, was it mine? With it, more of the floating memories were jerked sharply into view. My baby sister's crib, my best friend's worn leather jacket, the cobbles from the street outside my front door, cracked and flying towards me. They slammed me, each a shockwave of memory, sparking and juddering inside my skull.

A strange voice entered my ears, "Yes sister." It had come from my mouth but it's wasn't mine. Either the spasms I had just experienced hadn't happened or no one had seen it. I followed the sister from the room, apparently adhering to some instruction. It was easy to follow, now that the waves had returned to relative calm. It wasn't as though I felt controlled by anyone else. My actions were my own. However, I felt detached, floating behind my eyes. The closest I felt to reality had been when the stabbing shards of sound and light had pierced my consciousness, forcing me to remember. I was glad it had stopped.

I don't want to remember.

I want to float.


End file.
